Page 38 of A Little Bit Engaged
He only hoped Cara felt the same way about him.
♥ ♥ ♥
In the bathroom, Cara dried off after her shower. Music played from her cell phone. K-Pop. She thought the dance beat would keep her awake.
Her eyelids felt heavy and her brain foggy. She’d barely slept last night.
One person was to blame—Brody.
Thoughts of him kissing her in that dressing room had kept her up, most, if not all, night. Loki had given up getting a restful sleep and deserted the bed around four in the morning.
She wanted to think of Brody as her friend. Fake fiancé or former crush would do, too. But she couldn’t stop the thoughts of his lips against hers and his arms around her.
Warmth grew near her core and flushed outward. Flutters filled her stomach. One butterfly, two butterflies, a hundred.
Not good.
Yes, he was gorgeous, sexy, and near perfect, but he wasn’t and wouldn’t be hers.
Not ever.
She glanced at her reflection in the steamed-up mirror.
You’re not Caitlin. Don’t think you can have what she had.
Cara slipped on her green polka-dotted robe. Terrycloth brushed over her skin the way Brody’s hands had. Only the soft fabric didn’t give her the same chills.
Stop.
Getting over him the first time hadn’t been easy, and he hadn’t kissed her then. Cara needed to keep her emotions in check. She wasn’t against lusting after someone, but in this case, it was a bad idea. Letting the line blur between reality and fantasy would only court disaster.
Even if her lips and body wanted him to kiss and touch her more.
She tied the robe’s belt too tight and then loosened it.
Squaring her shoulders, she opened the bathroom door.
Loki meowed. She kneeled to rub behind his ears. He purred as loud as a jet engine on a wide-body plane taking off from SFO.
At the window, Brody peeked out the blinds.
“Rehearsing for a remake of Rear Window?” she asked.
He glanced over his shoulder. His messy hair and sleep-rumpled clothes were sexy. Too bad he couldn’t look adorable, like a puppy or a miniature horse. Only…
His ever-present smile was gone. His eyes resembled the night sky.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“We’ve got a problem.” His voice sounded strangled as if someone had taken hold of his throat. “I’m so sorry.”
Cara couldn’t imagine things getting worse. Pushing aside the bedding on the couch, she sat. “That bad, huh?”
“That depends.” He stepped away from the window. His height and wide shoulders made her living room feel smaller, but then again, he’d always seemed larger than life to her, even when they were kids. “Have you been online?”
“Not yet. My phone’s on airplane mode so I could listen to music.”
“I went online to see the response to the interview. Threats have been made.”
